Maiden Voyage
by Tweeter
Summary: It's the first big case the team has had since Gibbs left. Chapter 5 is up! Complete!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer:_ NCIS does not belong tome, nor do its characters. This story is for entertainment purposes only, no money is being made.

A/N: Many thanks to my beta, Rinne, who cleans up my punctuation mistakes, makes great suggestions and says "huh?" when I'm not making any sense. Thanks also go to Research Geek who helped jumpstart this story when I got stuck and who offered suggestions.

**Maiden Voyage, by Tweeter**

The first few weeks after Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs resigned from NCIS were strange, almost surreal. His former Senior Field Agent, Anthony DiNozzo, had been formally promoted to Team Leader. Tony had mixed emotions about the whole thing. On one hand, he was extremely grateful and pleased that Gibbs had handed the team over to him, even if it was rather sudden. He suspected the senior agent had handed him the gun and badge in order to make a quick, clean exit.Whether that was the case or not, Tony was determined to live up to Gibbs' expectations.

At first, Tony wasn't sure what was bothering him. He had learned a lot from the former Marine, but he hadn't exactly come to the team as a wet-behind-the-ears probie. The responsibility was overwhelming at first, but it wasn't as if he felt he didn't have what it took to lead the team. They had finally established a comfortable rhythm, working together smoothly without looking around for Gibbs' approval or input. Still, something didn't feel right. Finally Tony realized that he just plain missed Gibbs.

Tony snorted, if Gibbs knew that he'd pop him on the head. But it was true. The team was a team in every sense of the word. They all worked well together and Gibbs was the rudder to the ship, the father-figure, the wise leader. Tony felt as if he had just gotten in sync with his mentor, knowing what he wanted almost before he wanted it. While Gibbs wasn't generous with praise, he made sure his agents knew when he approved of them, when he was pleased with their work, just as he let them know when they screwed up. A steely glare could freeze a subordinate's heart, a small smile and "good job" could make the same agent swell with pride.

Now that Tony was leading the team he had to blaze a new trail. He had already gotten flack for acting like Gibbs, so he wanted to establish his own leadership style. There was no way he could be as forbidding as Gibbs, but that wasn't his style anyway. At first his two teammates, Special Agent Timothy McGee and Officer Ziva David, didn't treat him any differently. They were used to him being the boisterous, fun-loving, almost childish second-in-command. As they worked cases with Tony in the lead they quickly realized what Gibbs had known all along: that Tony was an excellent investigator, with instincts and logic that rivaled Gibbs himself.

Tony also proved himself to be a good leader, listening to his agents' ideas and thoughts, encouraging them to push themselves and praising them on a job well done. He also teased the heck out of them, letting them know that even though he was in charge, he was still one of them. They all missed Gibbs, and no one believed that he was gone for good. At least they wouldn't admit it out loud if they thought he was. Gibbs was like an old warhorse, he wouldn't be able to stay away.

Tony didn't know what would happen when Gibbs came back. He kind of liked the role as Team Leader, but he missed working with Gibbs. He would love to be able to pick the man's brain for information and advice. Plus he missed the head slaps and the sound of his name being yelled across the squad room.

Sighing, Tony turned his mind back to more pressing matters. Their Medical Examiner, Doctor Donald Mallard, had been showing signs of needing a break. Ducky's mother was growing more unstable by the day and he had to hire a full-time nurse to help with her care. There was no way he would ever put the fragile woman in a nursing home, not while there was a breath in his body. Even with the additional help, the devoted son was unable to get a full night's rest. His assistant, Jimmy Palmer, had gained a great deal of experience and confidence at the older man's side and was itching to take charge of an autopsy on his own. Ducky had promised him the next case.

Unfortunately, the next case was their first big one since Gibbs' departure. It turned out to be extremely complicated and Tony began to question the wisdom of allowing the less-experienced Palmer to handle the autopsy on his own.

"Probie," he said loudly, "what have we got on the Walker case?"

McGee had long since given up hope that Tony would stop calling him Probie and had come to accept the nickname for what it was, a twisted term of endearment. He had learned that that was the way Tony showed his approval, even affection, for someone. Tony couldn't stand one of the other team leaders so he called him Special Agent Fullerton during meetings and Special Agent Full of Himself in private, when he was alone with his team. You knew you were in trouble with Tony when he addressed you by title and name. There had already been one heated discussion with "Officer David" that morning. Ziva had strong opinions on their current case and didn't hesitate to argue with Tony.

McGee walked over to Tony's desk, checking his PDA for his notes. "Not much to go on, Boss," he said. "Massive amounts of blood found at the scene; multiple sets of prints, none identified as of yet; evidence of a struggle, and one body, Lieutenant JG Stephen Walker."

Tony rubbed his eyes tiredly. "Have we got a cause of death yet?"

McGee hesitated. "Um, not yet, Tony. Palmer's still working with the body."

"Well," Tony said, exasperation evident in his voice, "does he at least have an idea?"

"I don't know, I haven't seen him recently."

"For crying out loud." Tony rose from his desk and headed to the elevator. "Come on, McGee," he called over his shoulder.

* * *

Autopsy was usually a cold, sterile environment, at least physically. Doctor Mallard always kept a running commentary going as he performed his duties, even when his only audience was the corpse he was working on, his smooth, cultured voice making the room feel warmer somehow.

Ducky wasn't expected in until early afternoon. He had to escort his mother to a doctor's appointment and he wanted to discuss her treatment with her physician. Jimmy Palmer was alone in the room, carefully examining the organs of the recently deceased man. He found the room too quiet without his mentor and had a CD playing in the background.

The doors swooshed open and DiNozzo and McGee strode into the room. "Got a COD for me, Palmer?" Tony said loudly, startling the young man.

"Well, I can tell you that he definitely bled to death," replied Jimmy, turning to face the two agents. "I don't know what the murder weapon was, though, at least not exactly."

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" Tony moved to stand on the other side of the autopsy table, across from Jimmy.

"The wound is very large and jagged." Jimmy pointed to the area in question. "There were traces of a substance on the edges. I took samples and sent them up to Abby. Actually, I took them up to Abby myself, since I'm the ME's assistant and don't have an assistant of my own."

Tony waved his hand in a 'get on with it' motion.

"Whatever the weapon was, it punctured the anterior superior pancreaticoduodenal artery. He bled out within minutes."

"There was so much blood at the scene it was hard to tell what the weapon was," said McGee.

"Yeah, well, now that we know the general shape, we should go over everything again, see if anything matches, plus see what Abby comes up with."

"Tony," Jimmy said hesitantly, "the Director has been down here asking me about the case. She seems quite insistent that I report my findings to her."

"I'll let her know," replied Tony. At Jimmy's questioning look, he continued, "The victim is the son of a Rear Admiral. She's got the brass breathing down her neck on this one. I'll smooth her ruffled feathers."

McGee snickered. "Don't let her hear you say that," he said, "she'll eat you alive."

"Madame Director and I get along just fine," Tony replied confidently. "I let her think she's the boss and she lets me do my thing."

"I _am_ the boss," a gravelly female voice said firmly.

Tony winced, then pasted a smile on his face and turned around. "Director Sheppard, I didn't hear you come in."

"I learned to sneak up on people from Gibbs," she replied.

"I'll have to remember that," Tony said.

"You _are_ right though, Agent DiNozzo," Sheppard said. "I've got people breathing down my neck about this case. How's the investigation going?"

"We've only been on the case for a day, Ma'am," Tony replied, looking annoyed. "I just got the cause of death from Palmer and Sciuto is working on the evidence from the scene."

Jen Sheppard sighed. "Okay, DiNozzo, keep me apprised of the situation."

"Of course, Director."

The Director eyed DiNozzo speculatively. "Tony," she said, her voice putting the younger man on guard, "perhaps you can give the Admiral an update on the case. You've got a way of disarming people, maybe you can get the man to back off a little, give us some breathing space to work on his son's murder."

"I appreciate the thought," replied Tony, pleased with the compliment, "but I don't know if my charm will work on a Rear Admiral. Now, if it were a female officer..."

"Make it work," Sheppard cut him off. "Be ready to report your findings to Admiral Walker at 1400 hours, in my office."

"Yes, Ma'am."

The Director turned and left Autopsy, leaving Tony, McGee and Jimmy to stare after her.

"I don't remember Director Morrow making Gibbs put on a dog-and-pony show for victim's relatives," muttered Tony, "I don't have time to put together a report for someone outside the investigation. I should be investigating."

McGee nodded in agreement.

Giving himself a good shake, Tony turned to the third man in the room. "Good job, Jimmy," he said jovially. "See if you can help Abby identify the murder weapon."

Jimmy beamed at Tony. "Thanks, Tony; I'll get right on that."

_...to be continued_


	2. Chapter 2

Later that evening the squad room was empty, except for DiNozzo, McGee and David. Tony had given what little information they had to the Lieutenant's father. The man seemed grateful for the information, happy to see that his son's murderer was being tracked down, and he thanked DiNozzo for his time and patience. Tony left the meeting feeling pleased that he was able to give the man some measure of comfort, even if he hadn't been able to give him any closure.

They were still a three-person team. Tony felt that their team worked just as well as before McGee joined them, and that they didn't need to bring another new person on just yet. McGee was anxious to have his own probie, and Tony promised him that they would get a new agent as soon as they got used to their new roles. Because McGee was busy tracking the victim's credit card spending, bank records and electronic communications, and Tony was busy in the Director's office with the Admiral, Ziva had spent the afternoon interviewing the victim's friends and co-workers on her own.

Despite his slight unease at sending the volatile Mossad agent to interview by herself, Tony felt she had progressed in her interviewing skills enough that she wouldn't scare potential witnesses off. He was pleased to see that she had learned the difference between interrogation and interview techniques. She still had a habit of thinking the worst of people, but had stopped letting that worldview affect her work.

"_Zeevah_," he said, leaning back in his chair, crossing his hands behind his head, "what did you find out from Lieutenant Walker's friends and co-workers?"

"Only that he didn't have very many, friends, that is," replied Ziva, turning her chair to face her boss. "Lieutenant Walker was a child of privilege and acted like one. Most of his acquaintances thought he was an arrogant, preening bastard. Not unlike you." She smiled sweetly.

Tony gave her a sarcastic smile. "Very funny, _Zeevah_," he said. "What else did you find out?"

"The Lieutenant was also a ladies man," Ziva continued. "He had a girlfriend back home _and_ a girlfriend near the base. One assumes that neither one knew about the other."

"Now Ziva," interrupted Tony, "remember, never…"

"Never assume," Ziva finished for him. "I know, but I think this is a case of an angry lover."

Tony shook his head, sadly. "Seriously, you can't just jump to that conclusion. Sure, it's possible and we'll investigate that angle, but you can't just state definitively that a wronged lover murdered Walker."

"It's the most logical conclusion," argued Ziva. "Walker's girlfriend from his hometown is visiting. She's not just his girlfriend, she's his fiancée and she's staying with Admiral Walker and his wife."

Tony sat up. "You couldn't say that earlier in your report?" he asked, annoyed.

Ziva shrugged. "I wanted to see if you would pull a Gibbs Rule on me."

Tony glared at her. "Do we know where the local girlfriend lives?"

"We do," she replied.

"Okay, you pick up the fiancée; McGee, pick up the other one, put them in separate interrogation rooms. We'll see if Officer David's theory is correct."

The two agents left to pick up the suspects. McGee turned to Ziva when the elevator doors closed. "Why are you baiting Tony?" he asked.

Ziva smiled. "It's good to keep him on his toes. He's not Gibbs; he'll get complacent. Plus it's fun to get his sheep."

"Goat, the expression is 'get his goat'. He's under a lot of pressure, Ziva. None of us expected this. Sure, Tony was probably going to succeed Gibbs, but not so suddenly. We're all feeling out our new roles."

"I'm not," replied Ziva. She laughed and smacked McGee lightly on the arm. "Relax McGee, it's like foreplay for Tony. We fight, we flirt, it's fun."

"I don't think he thinks it's fun," muttered McGee, as the elevator doors opened onto the parking garage.

Ziva patted McGee's cheeks. "You really are a good friend, McGee," she said, exiting the elevator and walking to her car, waving at McGee over her shoulder.

* * *

Tony entered Abby's lab, carrying a Caff-Pow. "I come bearing gifts," he yelled, trying to make himself heard over the booming music.

Abby accepted the drink and took a sip. "Thanks, Tony," she yelled.

"Abs, can we turn the music down a few decibels? I think my ears are starting to bleed."

Abby turned the music down, grinning at the sight of Tony trying to pop his ears.

"You're getting old, Tony," she teased.

"Yeah, but I still look good."

"Yes, you do," Abby agreed, patting Tony's backside.

"Got anything for me, Abs?"

"Nothing on the substance found on the wound, yet," replied Abby, "but I just found something that will interest you."

"Oh?"

"I tested the blood on the scene, and while the blood type matches the victim's, the DNA does not." She turned to her computer and brought up two DNA charts.

Tony stepped up to the plasma screen. "So, we're looking for either a second victim who left the scene, which isn't likely with the amount of blood we found, or the killer was wounded in the struggle."

"Right," confirmed Abby.

"That's good, Abs." Tony turned to the young woman. "What about the weapon. Have you and Jimmy been able to figure out what was used to kill Walker?"

Abby shook her head. "Not yet, but we've got loads of stuff to go through. Jimmy went to get us something to eat before we continued. Hey, there'll be plenty of food if you want to join us and play 'match the gaping hole'."

Tony grinned. "No thanks, Abs. I like to keep my food separate from the graphic evidence, better for the digestion."

Abby shook her head. "Old _and_ wimpy," she said sadly.

Tony kissed her temple quickly. "You're so good for my ego, Abs," he said.

"You know I love you," she called out to him as he left the lab.

"I know," he called back over his shoulder, "how can you help it?"

Tony ran into Jimmy on the way out and grabbed one of the bags he was carrying. "Thanks Palmer," he said, grinning at the befuddled man as the elevator doors closed.

"Um… you're welcome?"

* * *

The team was in the office early the next morning. The mood in the squad room was tense. Both of Lieutenant Walker's girlfriends had airtight alibis. His fiancée, Evelyn Torrance, was from a wealthy Connecticut family. She and Stephan Walker had grown up together. Evelyn knew about the other woman, but felt that it was Walker's way of sowing his wild oats. She knew that he would never marry someone 'beneath his class' and turned a blind eye to the man's infidelity. Tony was very familiar with women like Evelyn, he grew up around them, was expected to marry one of them and produce more children like them.

Rita Kaminsky was a waitress at a restaurant near the base. She was young, pretty and fun-loving. It was easy to see why the young Naval officer had been drawn to her, Rita was the exact opposite of his fiancée, personality-wise. She was devastated at the news of his death, her eyes still red from crying. When Ziva told her Walker's secret it was obvious she had no idea. In an instant Ziva's suspicions of the young woman disappeared and she found herself sympathizing with her. Rita was working a double shift at the restaurant the night Walker was killed, proving that she wasn't the killer.

Now they were back to where they had started. They had a dead lieutenant, no suspects, and no murder weapon. Tony was in an especially foul mood, after coming from a meeting with the Director, who wanted to know why they weren't any closer to the killer. He wanted to know that as well.

"McGee," he said, "did you get any useful information from Walker's phone records or e-mail correspondence?"

"Nothing unusual, that I can see," replied McGee. "He made calls to his fiancée and his girlfriend, some to fast food places. No unusual activity on his bank accounts or credit cards."

"There's got to be something," Tony said irritably. "We need to talk to the friends and co-workers again. Ziva, you're with me. McGee, keep checking for anything."

Ziva bristled. "Are you saying that I didn't do a good job with the interviews?"

"No, I'm saying that a second pair of ears might hear something different," replied Tony, calmly. "That's why you always want two people on an interview, you get two different perspectives."

"Okay, then." Satisfied with his response, Ziva followed him to the elevator.

* * *

Tony and Ziva were back at the base where Lieutenant Walker worked as a munitions expert. They were interviewing Lieutenant Patrick Porter, Walker's closest 'friend', as far as Ziva could tell.

"So Lieutenant," Tony said, referring to his notebook, "you told Officer David that you hadn't seen Lieutenant Walker since the day before he was killed."

"That's right," replied Porter. "We worked out at the gym after we got off duty. He had a date and took off around 1830. That's the last I saw of him."

"Do you know who he was going to see?" asked Ziva.

Porter shrugged. "I figured it was Rita, but he could have picked up another chick, knowing him."

"Miss Kaminsky was working that night," Ziva said sharply, "and she told me that she thought he was having a 'guy's night out' with you."

"I don't know where she got that idea," Porter said nervously. "I have to get back to work."

Tony starting walking next to the man, intent on continuing his questioning. "You're limping," he said. "Did you hurt your leg?"

"My hip," replied Porter, "ran into a table and cut it. It's just sore."

"Did you require stitches?" asked Ziva.

"Ten."

"Must have been a sharp table," observed Tony, "or you ran into it pretty hard."

"Yeah, something like that."

"You must have bled quite a bit," Ziva said.

"Some," the lieutenant was getting more nervous with the two agents flanking him.

"Lieutenant Porter, I think you're going to have to come back to headquarters with us," Tony said, taking hold of his arm.

"What? Why?"

"We'll need to get a sample of your DNA. You won't mind giving us one, will you?"

Porter looked like he was about to bolt, but Tony had a firm grip on his arm and Ziva had her hand on her weapon. His shoulders slumped and he went with them reluctantly.

_...to be continued_


	3. Chapter 3

Abby and Jimmy had spent most of the evening carefully matching the shapes of the instruments to the wound on the victim's torso, to no avail. The two of them were sitting in the lab, looking at the remaining items forlornly. None of the objects looked like they would fit the wound, no matter how they adjusted the angle of entry.

"There's got to be something left at the scene," said Abby.

"The guys are good at getting all the evidence," said Jimmy, unconvinced. "I can't believe that they'd miss a sharp, blood-covered object."

"You're right," replied Abby, dejected, "but we're missing something."

"What about the substance from the wound, do you know what it is yet?"

"Yeah, I told Tony. You're not going to believe what it was," Abby said cryptically.

"What?"

"Tomato, oregano, basil, sugar..." She grinned at Jimmy's confused expression. "It was pizza sauce!"

"Lieutenant Walker was killed with a slice of pizza?"

Abby hit his shoulder. "No Jimmy," she said, laughing. "There was an empty pizza box in the Lieutenant's apartment. He and whoever killed him probably knew each other and were eating pizza together. And were pretty messy about it. Sometimes men can be such pigs, no offense, Jimmy."

"None taken." Jimmy smiled at the lab tech, rubbing his shoulder. "Where do we go from here?"

"Well," Abby said, rolling her chair to the computer where she punched a few commands, calling up some pictures. "We start over. We look at every picture of the crime scene, taken from every possible angle. We see if there's something there that we're overlooking."

Jimmy grinned at Abby. "Let's get crackin'," he said.

Abby looked at him and shook her head. "You have to get out more, Jimmy."

"That's a perfectly good saying," Jimmy protested.

"Yeah, if you lived in Iowa about 40 years ago," she retorted.

"Maybe I'm just old fashioned."

Abby snorted. "Okay, Jimmy, if you say so." The two studied the crime scene pictures silently.

"I still think that the wound has to have been made by one of those Eiffel Tower statues," Abby said. "And what self-respecting man collects statues of the Eiffel Tower anyway? Especially a munitions expert. He should have a collection of guns and knives and stuffed animal heads."

"I collect pigs," Jimmy said.

Abby turned to look at him. "Pigs? As in 'oink oink'?"

Jimmy nodded. "I have little statues, a lot of banks, a mobile of flying pigs..."

"Ooookay."

"Abby, it's no stranger than your collection of voodoo masks," Jimmy said.

Abby nodded. "You're right. I'm sorry, Jimmy, I'm being judgmental and I hate judgmental people. The world is made of different people with different tastes; it's what makes us interesting. I'd love to see your pig collection someday."

Jimmy grinned at her. "I'd love to see your voodoo collection, too, Abby."

"We'll have a show and tell day," declared Abby.

Tony walked into the lab. "Find the fatal slice of pizza yet, Abs?" he asked.

"No, Tony," she replied. "I swear it's got to be one of the Eiffel Tower statues, but none of these fit the cast Jimmy made of the wound."

"We'll have to go back to the scene, see if we missed a statue," Tony said. "Abs, there's a Lieutenant Porter in the interrogation room. I want you to go and get a DNA swab, he's already agreed to it."

"You got it, Tony."

"Hey Tony, what kind of man do you think collects statues of the Eiffel Tower?" Abby asked, winking at Jimmy.

"Someone who has issues with his manhood," Tony replied, not missing a beat.

Surprised, Abby said, "Really?"

"Sure, you know, the whole phallic symbol thing. He's into guns and fast cars and he's got two women on a string, that we know of." Tony continued, "He was probably overshadowed by his father, you know, all that psychobabble stuff."

"Hmm," Abby sat there thinking, for a second, "Jimmy collects pigs."

"Don't know what that means," replied Tony. "Maybe something about money or rolling around in mud."

"Or rolling around in money," added Abby.

"They're cute," Jimmy said.

"Or, maybe they're cute," agreed Tony on his way out of the lab. "We'll go find your Eiffel Tower, Abby."

* * *

Going back to the squad room, Tony found McGee still working at his computer, trying to find any activity on Walker's e-mail and phone records that would reveal a disagreement with someone, something that would point to a possible motive and suspect for the young man's murder. 

"Where's Ziva?" asked Tony.

"She got a call and said something about going to see someone," replied McGee, distractedly.

"Come on, Probie." Tony pulled his gun and badge out of his desk drawer. "Get out from behind the computer."

McGee quickly pulled out his own weapon and followed Tony. "Where we going?"

"Back to the crime scene to see if we can find the Eiffel Tower."

* * *

She stood in the shadows, silently watching the house. She had gotten a call from one of her sources that he was in the country. Now she waited until he came back to the one place she knew he couldn't resist. 

"Something I can do for you?"

Ziva whirled around, reaching for her weapon. Her arm was caught in a viselike grip and she looked into the face of Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Her eyes narrowed and she frowned at the slight smirk on his face.

"If I were Hamas your throat would be slit by now," he said, matter-of-factly.

"I see your reflexes haven't slowed down while you were wasting away in Mexico," she said.

Gibbs grinned and released her arm. "Come on in," he said, walking back to the house.

Following him into the kitchen, Ziva looked around curiously, taking in the details of Gibbs' home. He took two bottles of beer out of the refrigerator, opened them and handed one to her.

"Todah," she said, taking a hefty swallow.

"How'd you know I was back?" he asked.

"I had one of my sources notify me if you showed up on their radar," she replied.

He nodded. "Is there any particular reason why you were watching out for my return?"

"I was hoping you'd come back and I could talk you into taking your job back," she replied.

"Tony's the team leader now," said Gibbs, shaking his head. "I'm retired."

"Tony's a good agent," argued Ziva. "He's got great instincts and he's a great person, but I don't know if he's ready to lead a team."

"Has he been screwing up?" Gibbs asked.

Ziva hesitated. "No, he hasn't screwed up."

"Is he hard to work with? Has the power gone to his head?"

"No, he's a good boss. I think McGee's gained even more confidence since he's become Tony's senior field agent."

"Then what's the problem?"

"It's our current case. We're floundering around like fish out of water, Gibbs," Ziva said, frustrated. "We have no motive, no murder weapon, we may have a suspect."

"So you've got your first hard case and you're ready to give up on him already?" Gibbs shook his head. "I'm disappointed in you, Ziva."

Ziva bristled at the reprimand. "I haven't given up on Tony," she said. "I just think that we need someone with more experience leading the team."

"You forget that Tony has years of experience, more than you," Gibbs said sharply.

"Yes, I know he's experienced, but he's never led a team before," argued Ziva.

"And it's about time he did," said Gibbs, cutting her off. "You may recall I wasn't too happy about your unexpected assignment to my team." Ziva stiffened at that.

"That worked out, didn't it?" Ziva nodded, relaxing when she saw Gibbs smile. "Give him the same chance we gave you."

Gibbs finished his beer and grabbed another from the refrigerator, handing Ziva her second as well. The two still stood, Ziva watching Gibbs thoughtfully.

"I still think you should come back," she said finally. "If not to lead the team, then to work with us in some capacity."

"Why would I do that?" Gibbs said.

"Because you know you want to," Ziva replied. "You can't live the life of a retired gentleman, you can't re-enlist in the Marines, you're too old." Gibbs snorted at that

"And because I've never worked for someone like you before," she continued, softly. "I know there's so much more I can learn from you. I feel cheated. Tony had the chance to learn from you for four years, McGee for two. I only had a taste of what you could teach me."

Gibbs shook his head. "Not gonna happen," he said. "Just give Tony the support he needs; you can learn a lot from him too, you know."

"Not in bed," she said, smiling.

"No comment," Gibbs said.

"You can both learn from each other," he continued, seriously, "Your experience with terrorists is invaluable, he'll need your advice and expertise. But don't dismiss his experience as a cop, his instincts and powers of observation, they might just save your life someday, I know they've saved his."

Ziva nodded, "Thank you, Jethro," she said, "I'll remember that."

_... to be continued_


	4. Chapter 4

"Maybe the murderer took the weapon with him," said McGee, poking through the debris they had left behind. The two of them were back at Lieutenant Walker's apartment, searching the living room.

"Maybe," replied Tony, crawling around on the floor, looking under the sofa and entertainment center.

McGee straightened up and looked at Tony. "Then what do we expect to find?"

"Another Eiffel Tower statue, or something shaped like that," Tony said irritably. " I don't know, just keep looking."

Tony stood up in the middle of the room and looked around thoughtfully. He stared at the bloodstains on the carpet, trying to discern a pattern. His eyes narrowed as he followed the blood to the sliding door. The door was closed, and he was pretty sure it had been closed when they first got to the murder scene. There was blood on the balcony, though, and no blood on the handles, inside or out. Tony slid open the glass door and went outside, looking around. He saw a blood stain on the railing. Careful not to smudge the blood, he leaned over the railing and looked down. There was some dense underbrush directly underneath.

"McGee," Tony called out, "go outside and see if you can find anything in the bushes down there."

"Right, Boss."

* * *

"Abby," Tony called, striding into the lab. He handed her an evidence bag with a small statue in it. 

"You found it!" she exclaimed, happily.

"Yeah, it was outside the building. The killer must have tossed it off the balcony," Tony said. "The officers who found the body closed the sliding glass door so we didn't see the blood on the balcony. Rookie mistake." Tony shook his head ruefully.

"I'm going to need you to match the blood on that thing," he said, "and see if you can get any prints from it. Please."

Abby grinned. "Will do," she said. "Good job, Tony. You should talk to Gibbs about this."

"Gibbs is in Mexico, Abs," Tony said.

"No, he isn't," she replied. "He's back, I went to see him."

Surprised, Tony asked, "When did he get back?"

Abby shrugged. "I don't know, a few days ago I think."

"Oh," Tony said, faintly.

"You should go see him, he looks good," she urged.

"Maybe later, I have to question Porter. I'll need those results before I do, Abs."

"It'll take awhile, you should go see Gibbs while I'm running the tests."

Tony smiled, uncertain. "Yeah, okay. Maybe I'll just stop by."

* * *

Tony stood at the back door to Gibbs' house, uncertain of what to do next. What was he thinking, just coming over the minute he heard the man had returned from Mexico? It wasn't as if Gibbs had called and said he was back. He hadn't asked Tony to come by for a visit, or meet him for coffee. Hell, as far as Tony knew he was nothing more than an ex-teammate, his former subordinate and successor. 

"In or out, DiNozzo," Gibbs' familiar voice bellowed from inside. "Make up your mind."

Chuckling, Tony shook his head and opened the door, walking into the kitchen with a grin on face.

"Welcome back, Boss," he said.

"I'm not your boss anymore, DiNozzo," replied Gibbs. The older man looked relaxed. His hair was slightly longer and he sported a healthy tan. He poured a cup of coffee from the freshly brewed pot and motioned for Tony to help himself.

It was Gibbs who broke the awkward silence. "It's good to see you, Tony," he said, a genuine smile on his face. "You look good."

Tony smiled. "Good to see you, too, B...Gibbs. You look well rested."

Gibbs snorted. "Yeah, having nothing to do but fish and stare at the ocean does that to you."

"Bored you to death?"

"You got it."

Gibbs went to the basement door and started down the stairs, pausing to give Tony a 'Come on' look. The younger man dutifully followed.

Tony sat down on the stairs, eyes sweeping the familiar basement. He'd never been there in the daytime; the light coming through the small windows wasn't enough to brighten the entire space. Dust floated in the rays of sunlight, giving the room a dreamlike, smoky feel.

Gibbs was standing at the workbench, pulling down the tools he was going to use.

"Have you figured out how you're going to get this thing out of here when you're finished with it?" asked Tony.

"When the time comes I'll have it all worked out," Gibbs replied.

"You've only got about three feet of wallspace that's above ground," said Tony, thoughtfully. "You could dig a ramp in your backyard and knock out part of the foundation.

"You'd have to be careful, though," he continued. "You'd have to reinforce the wall, put in some load-bearing supports so the side of the house doesn't come crashing down."

Gibbs stopped what he was doing and turned to face the younger man. "You ever work in construction?" he asked.

Tony grinned. "Only for a summer. You didn't think I would ever do any manual labor, did you?"

"You constantly surprise me, DiNozzo," replied Gibbs, picking up the sander from the bench and heading to the skeletal form of the boat. Tony wondered if Gibbs had taken it apart, and started over again, it seemed less finished than the last time he was down here. He sat watching Gibbs sand, enjoying the easy air of camaraderie that had returned between the two men.

"Did you find what you were looking for in Mexico?" Tony asked suddenly.

Gibbs looked over at him briefly, then continued sanding. "I don't know what I was looking for. I did a lot of thinking, a lot of drinking..."

"A lot of fishing," interrupted Tony.

Gibbs laughed and nodded. "I never want to see another fish unless it's broiled and sitting on a plate."

Tony laughed. After a moment he asked, "What did all that navel gazing tell you?"

Gibbs paused and looked down for a moment. He turned and faced the younger man. "Never run away from your problems," he said seriously.

Tony nodded. "You coming back?" he asked softly.

"I am back," Gibbs replied, returning to his sanding, stirring up a cloud of dust.

"I mean to NCIS." Tony's eyes were trained on the mug of cold coffee clasped in his hands. "We could sure use you, Boss."

"I'm sure you're doing fine."

Shaking his head, Tony pushed himself up and wandered over to the workbench, idly picking up tools. "We've got a real weird one. We have a victim and a weapon, a possible suspect, massive amounts of blood and DNA that doesn't match the victim. To make matters worse, the vic is a Rear Admiral's son, so brass is all over us to get this one solved."

Gibbs nodded. "I heard."

Tony looked surprised. "You heard?"

"Ziva told me about the case."

"Ziva was here?" Tony asked, surprised.

"Earlier," replied Gibbs. "She came by, we talked for a little while, then she left."

"About the case?"

Gibbs nodded. "Among other things, yeah."

"Oh." Tony looked uncertain. "Abby said she saw you too."

"The other night."

"I see."

"DiNozzo, they showed up uninvited, just like you. There wasn't any welcome back party that you didn't know about. They were spur of the moment visits, don't make a big deal out of it."

"I'm not making a big deal," protested Tony.

"Well you've got that hurt puppy dog look on your face, like there's a conspiracy to keep you out of the fun. There isn't."

"I don't look like a puppy," Tony muttered under his breath. He stood there sullenly playing with a tool. Holding it up, he asked, "What the hell is this?"

"It's a circular ship's plane, you use it when you're working with convex or concave surfaces."

"Like a ship's hull?"

"Yup."

Gibbs continued to sand, giving the younger man a chance to gather his thoughts. Finally, Tony spoke up.

"Ziva doesn't think I'm doing a very good job of leading the team under pressure," he said softly.

Gibbs put the sander down and faced Tony. "What do you think?"

Tony sighed. "I used to think I was a good investigator, and that I could be a good leader. We were doing fine until this case come up. We keep running into brick walls."

"Look," Gibbs said, with just a bit of an edge, "I walked away fast and tossed you the team. And I'm sorry for not giving you more warning, but I didn't do it lightly. You're capable. Hell, you're _highly_ capable. You care about the job and you care about the people. That's all I ever did." Gibbs took a few steps toward Tony, until they were eye-to-eye. "You can do this job. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Not Ziva, not the Director, not yourself. Understand?"

Tony's response was instantaneous, "Gotcha, Boss."

"And stop calling me Boss."

There was silence for a moment. "Thanks, Gibbs," he said softly, a crooked smile slowly emerging. "I guess I needed to hear something like that." His stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly.

"Want to order a pizza?" he asked hopefully. "Let me pick your brain? I'll buy."

Gibbs laughed. "If you're buying, sure."

_... to be continued_


	5. Chapter 5

Lieutenant Patrick Porter had been sitting in the interrogation room for hours, waiting for the agents to question him. He knew they were making him wait, hoping to break him down. Trouble was, it was working.

Finally the door opened and Tony and McGee walked in. Tony sat in the chair across from the lieutenant while McGee leaned against the wall next to the two-way mirror.

"So, Lieutenant Porter," Tony said, "do you want to tell me the real story?"

"What do you mean?" Porter replied nervously. "I told you the truth."

Shaking his head the agent chuckled. "No, I'm afraid you didn't. You see, Lieutenant Walker ordered pizza that night and the delivery guy said he saw someone watching tv while Walker paid him. He said that someone was you."

"Identified you from a picture," added McGee.

"And that's not all, Lieutenant," continued Tony. "We found the weapon, one of Lieutenant Walker's Eiffel Tower statues."

Porter's already pale face turned whiter. "I didn't stab him with anything," he said shakily. "We fought, yeah, but I didn't kill him."

"What did you fight about?"

"It was stupid, okay?"

Tony nodded. "Okay, it was stupid. Just tell us what you fought about."

"Stevie had a chip on his shoulder," Porter said, "a real big one. He thought he was better than everyone because he came from money and his father is a Rear Admiral. We got into an argument over money."

"What happened?" Tony urged the man to continue.

"Stevie was talking about how much his car cost and what he was going to do when he got married and left the Navy," Porter said. "I come from a middle-class family. My folks both work in a factory. I was arguing with him about how hard it was out there for the poorer folks, how the middle class was disappearing. It got kinda heated, and I punched him. We started fighting, he fell and I stormed out of there. I didn't even look back. I didn't stab him, I swear."

There was a knock on the door. McGee went to answer, spoke quietly to the person outside, then turned to Tony.

"Boss, could you come out here please?" he asked.

"Excuse me," Tony said to Porter.

Abby was waiting for them outside. "I've got bad news, Tony," she said.

"What?"

"The only prints on the statue belonged to Walker, and Porter's DNA didn't match the DNA of the blood on the floor."

"What does that mean?" asked McGee.

Tony stood thinking for a moment. "McGee, have someone take Porter home. Abby, let's go."

"Wait a minute," McGee protested. "You mean we're going to let Porter go?"

"He didn't kill Walker, McGee," replied Tony. "Apologize to him for me, okay?"

"If he didn't kill him, who did?"

"Get someone to take him home and meet us in the lab."

* * *

The whole team, minus Ducky, was down in the lab. Abby had been working on a simulation program with Tony, programming in what he thought had happened. 

"Who do you think killed Walker, Tony?" asked Ziva, curiously.

"Here's what I think," replied Tony, motioning for Abby to start the simulation while he explained what happened. "Walker and Porter were sitting around, eating pizza, watching the game on tv. The game is over, or something, and they start talking about future plans. Walker starts bragging about how easy he's going to have it and Porter gets upset. Never talk politics, by the way, leads to nothing but trouble."

Abby and McGee snickered, while Jimmy nodded his head in agreement.

"So, they fight, right?" The computer simulated people grapple onscreen. "Walker falls and lands on one of his statues, but Porter is already on his way out the door and he doesn't bother to turn around and see if the guy's okay. Walker gets up and stumbles around, goes out onto the balcony for some reason, maybe he needs some air. He pulls the statue out and drops it, it falls off the balcony. Then Walker stumbles back into his apartment, falls down and dies."

"That's why the only prints on the statue are Walker's," Ziva said.

Tony nodded. "Yes. This was an accident."

"What about the DNA?" asked McGee.

"Now that," said Tony, "is a mystery."

"Maybe not," said Jimmy, thoughtfully. "Lieutenant Walker could be a blood chimera."

Tony turned to Jimmy. "Blood chimera?" he asked.

Abby's eyes grew big with excitement. "Yes, a blood chimera!" she said excitedly. "Jimmy, that's brilliant! That's inspired! We have to do the tests."

"Maybe he's a tetragametic chimera." Jimmy was getting excited too. Tony, McGee and Ziva stared at them, confused.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Ziva.

"You know what a mythical chimera is, right?" Abby asked. "It's a creature that's part goat and part lion, with a serpent tail. Anyway, the most common form of a human chimera is a blood chimera. That's when fraternal twins share part of the same placenta, they exchange blood stem cells. So a person can have AB blood, but be either A or B genetically "

"When two embryos fuse to form one embryo, the result is a tetragemetic chimera," continued Jimmy. " Their body is made up from two genetically distinct lines of cells derived from a total of four gametes – eggs and sperm. A person can show no signs, or they can have different color eyes, one blue, one brown. There have been cases where they found structures of both the female and male reproductive systems and as a result the person had cells of both sexes in their bodies."

"This is so cool," raved Abby. "We can write a paper together, Jimmy. We can be published." She jumped up and down excitedly.

The three agents left Abby and Jimmy jumping around in the lab and headed back to the squad room.

"Well," said Ziva, once they were on the elevator. "That was interesting."

"Weird case," agreed McGee. "At least Lieutenant Walker wasn't murdered."

"No," agreed Tony, "it was a stupid accident. That's not much of a comfort to his family, but at least they have closure."

* * *

**Epilogue**: 

Two days later the Director called Tony and his team to her office for a briefing. The agency had received some intelligence about a possible terrorist plot against an unknown target on the west coast. Information was sketchy, but they were able to determine that the plot involved a Navy battle cruiser and a western port.

The team was seated around the conference table in the Director's office, getting briefed.

"We're bringing in an expert in military operations and terrorism," said the Director, "he'll be working with you, reporting directly to me."

Ziva started to protest, "We don't need an expert in terrorism; I have a great deal of expertise in that area, you know that."

"Ziva's right," agreed Tony. "We don't need someone looking over our shoulders and telling us what to do."

"This person won't be there to keep an eye on you or to do your job," explained Sheppard, "he'll be there to offer his expertise and assist you in any way you see fit." She pressed a button on her intercom. "Cynthia, send him in."

The door opened and Gibbs walked in.

"Gibbs!" exclaimed Ziva. Tony and McGee grinned at their former boss.

Gibbs grinned at the delighted expressions on their faces. He would never admit it out loud, but he missed his old team. He not only enjoyed working with them, watching their growth proudly, but he enjoyed their company.

"Are you coming back to NCIS?" asked McGee.

"No," replied Gibbs, "I'm working strictly as a civilian consultant."

Tony turned to McGee and said, "They call him _Mr_. Gibbs. Ow! Hey, assaulting a Federal Agent, Boss, that's a felony."

"Don't call me Boss."

FIN

**A/N**: Tony has come through this totally unscathed. Yay me! Thanks again to my wonderful beta Rinne, she rocks(mwah)and my sounding board andmuse, Research Geek.


End file.
